Scott Pilgrim vs. The World (Wright, 2010) is the film adaptation of Bryan Lee O’Malley’s award-winning graphic novel series - the story of Scott Pilgrim (Michael Cera), a twenty-three-year-old who needs to get his life together. He has no job, lives in a small, dirty apartment across the street from his parents’ house, and is dating a seventeen-year old girl named Knives (Ellen Wong). Meanwhile, Scott encounters a girl from his dreams named Ramona Flowers (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) and instantly falls in love with her. However, before Scott can date Ramona, he needs to fight Ramona’s seven evil exes. Thus begins Scott’s journey to defeat all seven exes while learning to confront himself and his past actions.

Scott Pilgrim's awkward first time meeting Ramona after seeing her in a dream.

A major way in which the film tries to adapt the graphic novel is through replicating its stylized, cartoonish tone. Ordinary scenes between two characters talking on the phone become like panels in a comic book, and a character swearing is covered up with a black bar over their mouth that even Scott can see. During action scenes, characters fight each other in a similar style as characters in modern Japanese manga. One scene has Scott and his band playing against Kyle (Keita Saitou) and Ken Katayanagi (Shota Saito), twin Japanese DJ’s who dated Ramona at the same time. Scott’s band and the Katayanagi’s not only play their music, the music also conjures powerful energy spirits that fight each other to decide who wins the battle of the bands. Scott’s band conjures a giant yeti while the Katayanagi’s conjure twin dragons. The abundance of stylization and flair makes the film seem more like an animated film than a live-action film.

Scott Pilgrim vs. the Katayanagi Twins

While the cartoon-style fights and jokes feel more natural for the graphic novel’s already Japanese-inspired art style, these same fights and jokes do not mesh quite as well with the film’s live action setting. Within the Scott Pilgrim graphic novel, seeing Ramona with brightly-colored hair or Knives having the color of her hair literally punched out of her seemed fitting in a cartoon world. In the live-action Scott Pilgrim film, these same elements don’t translate as well from a two-dimensional page to a three-dimensional world.

One could argue that, because of the film’s overall comedic tone, it would not matter if the animated visual style of the film looks silly compared to the live action elements. However, the film’s themes and subject matter make it seem like it is too comedic. Putting aside the numerous video game references and flashy fight scenes, the essential story of Scott Pilgrim is about confronting one’s past mistakes and maturing as a result. The film, as a result of taking more of a comedic tone, seems to downplay this theme compared to the graphic novel, which spends more time developing Scott’s problems with confronting his past and his failed relationships. ​

Scott running away from himself, literally.

So, accommodate for the change of visual medium would , it would make sense to condense some of the more outlandish elements of the original source material. On the other hand, would condensing these elements too much take away the spirit of the source material? In the case of Scott Pilgrim, much of what makes the series’ style so unique is its references to video games and comic books through its visuals. Making a more grounded Scott Pilgrim film would deviate from the series’ tone. So the alternate solution to this predicament would be to create an animated Scott Pilgrim film.

One potential problem with that would be alienating younger audiences because of dealing with more mature themes. The Scott Pilgrim graphic novels and the live action film deal with sexual relationships and emotional mind games. For a long time, it seemed like animated films were . Then, Sausage Party (Tiernan and Vernon 2016) recently defied this belief. According to the LA Times, Sony Pictures estimated that the film would make a modest $20 million compared to its $15 million budget. However, opening weekend came and the film made twice its budget with over $34 million in the US and, according to IMDb, made over $97 million by October 2016. Not only was it financially successful, it also had a favorable response from critics. Nick De Semlyen from Empire Online wrote of the film as “the dumbest movie of all time, but it’s actually smart, subversive and packed with famous voices saying wonderfully unspeakable things.” (2016) Roy Bruer, Sony’s distribution chief, theorized about the film’s success saying that, “[people] long for fresh material, things that are creative and innovative, something different. But that’s if you get it right.” (Anderson 2016) ​

With Sausage Party and its implications about American film audiences, it seems like an animated Scott Pilgrim could have worked if done right, but does this mean that the film should never have been live action to begin with? With its box office failure aside, it has attained a noticeable cult status online. MTV News noted that despite its critical success on online review sites like IMDb and Rotten Tomatoes and its Blu-Ray release, it still fared poorly in the box office. The writer goes on to praise the film as “a stunning, frenetic, walloping fist of a film that mixes comic books, rock music, video games, and youthful angst into a wonderfully ADD assault on the senses.” (Cargill 2016) Even the film’s director, Edgar Wright, still has positive memories of it, as he tweeted on August 12, 2016 that the film aired on Channel 4 in the UK and praised Mae Whitman and Brie Larson for their involvement in it (Nordine 2016).

Though one can argue that Scott Pilgrim could have done better as an animated film, the film that was made had clearly found an audience despite its financial failure.​

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World is still beloved by many for its high-energy action and video game-like aesthetic.

“So long, and thanks for all the fish!” sing a pod of dolphins as they depart planet Earth in the beginning of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Jennings, 2005). The dolphins departure signals the imminent destruction of the planet in this absurd space adventure. The film revolves around Arthur Dent, a rather plain Englishman whose house has been marked for destruction in order to build a bypass. At the same time, an intergalactic government run by the Vogons (a alien race of slimy, jowled caricatures of bureaucrats and politicians) has marked the Earth for destruction to build an intergalactic bypass. Dent is rescued from imminent doom, as the Earth is destroyed, by his best friend, Ford, an incognito alien. Ford and Dent catch a ride with the spaceship Heart of Gold, a craft under command by the self-kidnapped Galactic President Zaphod, an egotist searching for the the planet Magrathea. Accompanying the President is Trillian, a woman who once had a short relationship with Dent before she disappeared from Earth. The film follows the group’s journey across the galaxy as they search for the planet Magrathea and the supercomputer who contains the ultimate question to life, the universe, and everything. Like most book to film adaptations, the film departs from the written text in some ways, but the movie maintains the endearing characters and improbable technology from its textual source; however, the film begins to lose its Sci-Fi base as it switches to more of a Hollywood-esque romantic comedy in its concluding minutes. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Jennings, 2005) is based on the 1979 novel of the same name. Penned by Douglas Adams, the book features mostly the same characters and plot structure. While most films depart in what some would consider negative ways from their textual counterparts, Adams wrote both the source material and the film’s screenplay, contributing to less of a discrepancy between the two works. However, there are a few departures from the original novel. For instance, in the film Trillian, played by Zooey Deschanel, is kidnapped by the vogons and becomes a damsel in distress for Dent to rescue. The Arthur Dent then comes to her aid in a valiant attempt that includes waiting in a DMV-style line and appropriating the correct form for her release. In the novel, the kidnapping and rescue simply do not occur. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy was also adapted into a radio and TV show prior to the film, and Adams approached each of them with slightly different plot elements leading to some self-contradiction between the adaptations. In a 1985 interview with David Letterman, Adams admitted that the story creates a sense of bafflement and confusion, so he tries to share that confusion with the readers ("Douglas Adams on David Letterman (14 February 1985)”).​The film also includes a large amount of technology and concepts that are confusing. To arrive at Magrathea, President Zaphod utilizes the improbability drive on the Heart of Gold. The improbability drive is a completely fictional engine that transports the ship through every possible location and time until it arrives somewhere in space. To explain this, the film utilizes an animated Hitchhiker’s Guide to show what the improbability drive does. This tool is employed throughout the film to visualize other impossible technologies such as a point-view-gun, the babel fish, and Deep Thought, the supercomputer that came up with the answer to “The Ultimate question of Life, the Universe, and Everything” (the answer, of course, being 42).

After the party finds Deep Thought on Magrathea, they’re told that the answer to the ultimate question has been found, but the Earth was originally built as a second supercomputer whose job was to find the Ultimate Question. Arthur is then taken to the newly constructed replacement earth that the Magratheans graciously built for the protagonist. When Arthur arrives in his new, old house, the Magratheans try to remove his brain from his body because they believed that it held a part of the Ultimate Question from the old Earth. Arthur fights back, realizing that the only true question that he cares about is whether or not Trillian was the one for him. Here, the film trends into more of a romantic comedy as Trillian and Arthur embrace, kiss, and the hero has won the girl.The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is an absurdly funny film that uses fantastical technology and endearing characters to encourage the audience to think deeply about their lives. The main characters of the film spend the majority of its runtime chasing a question so preposterously large and insignificant that it cannot possibly be found. Instead, Arthur finds his meaning in his interpersonal relationship with another human being. And although the film reverts to a romantic ending, Adams infuses a comedic touch into a fantastic intergalactic adventure.

By Perri Chastulik

"Drive It Like You Stole It," one of the many great songs in Sing Street, is a high-powered dance number that serves as a metaphor for the film's commentary on living life to the fullest.

​ Romantic comedies are often criticized for being soulless stories about illogical people doing ridiculous things to win each other over. Enter Sing Street (John Carney, 2016), the story of an Irish teenager named Cosmo who goes to a private school full of bullies and restrictive teachers. He meets a model named Raphina and asks her to be in music videos for his (at first fictional) band. He goes on a journey to find other members, create music, grow as a person, and, as in most romantic comedies, win the girl. It is the music of this film that provides its heart. The characters remain positive through profoundly difficult situations and find hope during a bleak period of Ireland’s history. Every film has “music” in the literal sense, i.e. sound elements like dialogue and sound effects. However, the score has a particular power to elicit emotion and heighten the power of an image. It increases moments of drama, romance, and comedy. Sing Street has all of these elements and uses its score effectively to punctuate them. For example, the song “Up” is lighthearted and warm, played in a major key. It plays as Cosmo records the song with his band and while Raphina listens to the tape of it, smiling. Sing Street manages to work against its own cliché in this moment, showing that there is more to the boy’s life now than just impressing the girl; he is fulfilled by playing music as well. Scott D. Lipscomb and David E. Tolchinsky included an insightful Suzanne K. Langer quote in their paper The Role of Music Communications. She says “music has all the earmarks of a true symbolism, except one: the existence of an assigned connotation.” Viewers can take the songs of Sing Street (or any film, for that matter) to mean anything they want. The song “Riddle of the Model,” for instance, is fittingly enigmatic. What it “means” is up to each individual, and ascertaining its precise function is not essential to the plot or enjoyment of the film. Sing Street does not try to create a message that is the same for everyone. Instead, it remembers that dialogue, visuals, and music have to work in harmony. It performs this better than many modern romantic comedies, harkening back to the days of Grease when every song came at the precise moment it was needed. What distinguishes Sing Street from other films is its ability to use music not just to heighten the main emotions of its genre (romance and comedy, in this case) but also to make every moment feel that much more powerful. Dramatic scenes like Brendan’s breakdown have a fitting backing track. Songs like “Drive It Like You Stole It” or “Up” show the bubbly feeling of falling in love. The film effectively uses the two main functions of film music; signifying emotion and providing continuity.

Sing Street is like its own song in a way, and not just a song of love. As Lucy Boynton, the actress who played Raphina, said in an interview for The Movie Times, “it is a love story but it’s children so it’s more about growing up and understanding everything.” This is the sort of journey with plenty of emotions tied up in it, the kind that there are not always words to express. Sometimes only a song can say what is needed in a film.

In 2014, Damien Chazelle dazzled the world with his debut feature, Whiplash, the story of a young jazz drummer and his power struggle with a sadistic band director. This year, he treated audiences to his sophomore film, La La Land (Chazelle, 2016) – a movie as different from Whiplash as one can possibly imagine. Besides a difference in tone, their only common elements are music, J.K. Simmons (who has a significantly smaller role this time around – a delightful cameo as Seb’s (Ryan Gosling) one-night boss), and the theme. ​If there is one thing Chazelle is trying to say in the movies that he has made so far, it is that art is hard work, and creative successes do not just happen by coincidence. I believe this is one reason why the artistic community has embraced his films with such a vigor. Whiplash and La La Land both orbit around characters whose upward creative prowess is blocked by barriers. For Andrew (Miles Teller), the Whiplash protagonist, it is Fletcher’s (J.K. Simmons) aggressive coaching, which quickly turns into emotional and verbal abuse. Conversely, in La La Land, Mia (Emma Stone) and Seb (Ryan Gosling) cannot blame their failures on a specific person. Mia desires a full-time acting career, but never gets any further than callbacks, and so must continue working as a barista on a Hollywood lot instead of performing in the movies filmed there. Seb wants to open his own jazz club, but has to settle for artistically unfulfilling piano gigs to make money. Fortunately, La La Land only dips its toes into their misery instead of wallowing in it, kicking off with the high-powered technicolor opening number “Another Day of Sun” before heading off the freeway (where the song takes place, with cast members dancing on top of cars) and into the real world.

Off to a party, Mia and her roommates hope "someone in the crowd" will help them out of obscurity and into stardom (La La Land, Chazelle, 2016)

​Mia and Sebastian have an extended “meet cute,” and go from loathing to love in only a few scenes. Gosling and Stone’s chemistry carries the movie. I cannot imagine two actors more perfectly suited to the roles they play. The characters themselves – “persistent ingenue” and “passionately stubborn artist” are not anything new, but Stone and Gosling imbue them with a freshness. Furthermore, the archetypal nature of their roles is part of the charm. For a film that pitches itself as a musical, however, it does not have nearly enough singing. “Another Day of Sun,” “Someone in the Crowd” and “A Lovely Night” promise an experience that the film does not deliver to the end. Although it starts out strongly musical, it swaps out show tunes for jazzy instrumentals. While the soundtrack is strong, with several Academy Award nominations, it does not feel quite strong enough. If only they had picked either show tunes in the traditional style or instrumental music – not both – or at least made it more even. Deciding on a classic musical score may have meant losing Stone and Gosling, however; while they are both fine vocalists, they could never carry an entire musical between the two of them. La La Land is one of the only films actually well-suited for a Broadway adaptation; perhaps it will happen someday. For any perceived weaknesses in the soundtrack, the other elements compensate for it, working together to create the current mood of each scene while also upholding the film’s overarching positive vibe and reinforcing its message: even when things do not work out as expected, know things will be all right in the end. LaLa Land is the movie from 2016 that everyone should see, simply because everyone can see it. It’s artistic without being inaccessible. If nothing else, it establishes Damien Chazelle as a lasting presence in film. His first two features are promising; we will have to see what comes in the future.